


no longing for the sun

by breakable



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Background Dream Poly, Canon Compliant, M/M, Making Out, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 16:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16664110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakable/pseuds/breakable
Summary: Presenting is always a rough time, but luckily Renjun doesn't have to go through it alone.





	no longing for the sun

**Author's Note:**

> this is just 2k of renjun making out with friends while vague power plays happen in the background. sorry i got possessed by scorpio season. the a/b/o aspects here are only in relation to pack dynamics, all that happens is some kissing.

 

 

Everyone’s disappeared to some other corner of the dorms, leaving Renjun curled up on the sofa in the living room with the lights off and feeling vaguely sorry for himself. He's been on-edge all day, snappish, lashing out at teasing he usually would have dealt with by firing off a quick retort of his own, until even Jeno started giving him a wide berth.

He feels feverish, dizzy, prickling with tense, irritable energy. The world is too loud, too bright. He’s probably coming down with something. At least Dream is between promotions right now, though there’s a fansign coming up on Friday he isn’t enthusiastic about missing.

The sound of the front door opening is abnormally loud, scraping against Renjun’s eardrums. “Hey guys,” comes Mark’s voice, followed by Mark himself appearing in the doorway.

Mark’s peppermint scent floods the room, overpoweringly strong, and all of a sudden Renjun can’t stand it, needs to tear out the source. His eyes fix on the long, unprotected curve of Mark's neck, left exposed by his shirt. If he takes Mark by surprise he could knock him down, sink his teeth in, force Mark to bow his head and acknowledge his authority to lead. A growl rumbles out from somewhere deep behind his ribs.

Mark blinks. “Renjun? Are you—” His expression shifts from bewilderment to alarm. “Oh, _fuck,_ okay, you just went alpha—” and that’s all he has time for before Renjun springs for his throat.

It’s a futile fight. If he’d thought about it rationally he would’ve realised this from the start. Mark has height, weight and experience on him; Renjun is functioning off adrenaline and instinct and a seemingly bottomless well of aggression.

Mark wrestles him down to the ground, pins his wrists above his head, and Renjun tries to twist out from under him but Mark’s grip is brutal, unyielding. He bears down hard against Renjun’s chest, knee digging in.

“Yield,” Mark says, laced with command.

Renjun grits his teeth, trembling under Mark as the conflicting drives to submit and to resist battle it out.

“ _Yield,”_ Mark repeats, more forcefully, and growls, right by his ear. Like a switch flipped Renjun makes an embarrassing noise he refuses to describe as a whimper and turns his head up and to the side, baring his throat. All the fight drains out of his limbs. Mark exhales, shifts some of his weight off Renjun, though he doesn’t release his hold on Renjun’s wrists. “Good. _Good._ Thank you, Renjunnie. ” Despite the blow to his pride, the wolf in Renjun basks a little in the praise from his leader. “I’m gonna, um. I’m gonna do the claim bite now, is that okay?”

Renjun nods tightly, heart ramming at his throat.

“I need to hear you say it.”

It takes a moment for Renjun to remember the mechanics of human speech. “Yeah.” His voice comes out hoarse. “Yeah, do it.”

With his head twisted away from Mark he can’t see him in the first place, but he screws his eyes shut anyway as Mark finally lets go of Renjun’s hands to tug his shirt down, exposing his left collarbone. The claim bite will officially induct him into the pack, brand him as one of _Mark’s_. The idea of such a visible badge of allegiance—ownership, even—burns, unsteady, saturated with humiliation and something sweeter, though it’s not like Mark has ever cared much about traditional pack hierarchy. Still, part of him bristles, itching to throw Mark off, make _him_ submit. Another part of him wants Mark to slam him down against the floor again, harder this time, maybe by the throat, trapping him firmly in place.

Mark runs a careful thumb over the ridge of Renjun’s collarbone; Renjun suppresses a shiver, wishes Mark wasn’t so gentle with him. The soft fall of Mark’s hair tickles the underside of Renjun’s chin. He brushes his lips over the sensitive skin there. Bites down, a brief starburst of pain that dissipates into liquid sweetness, a sense of lulling calm that quiets the hunger to fight.

“All done,” Mark says, climbing off Renjun and tugging him upright into a seated position. Renjun meets Mark’s serious, overly earnest eyes for the first time since yielding to him and forces the flush crawling up his neck back down. “I won’t do that again unless you ask me to, or unless you, like, challenge me for leadership and lose. Please don’t do that before I leave, it’s so much paperwork.”

The bite is starting to ache, dully. Renjun crosses and recrosses his legs, resisting the urge to touch it. “I’ll try not to,” he says. Winces at how shaky the words are.

“Sorry,” Mark says. “I know the whole thing is kinda embarrassing, especially for another alpha. When I presented and Taeyong-hyung—” He breaks off, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his head. “Uh, anyway, did you want me to scent you as well? Jeno said it made it easier to adjust.”

Renjun imagines Mark rubbing his wrist along the side of Renjun’s neck, overlaying Renjun’s own scent with comforting spicy peppermint, and decides that’s absolutely too much for one day. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Is there anything else you need from me? Don’t be afraid to ask.”

Mark is a good hyung, a responsible leader, but there’s just something about the way he acts around pack as opposed to the unpresented members, a tiny extra sliver of focus, a touch more warmth. Now that Renjun’s shifted from the latter to the former category he doesn’t know what the boundaries are, how far he can stretch them. Later he’ll chalk it up to the heady boldness brought on by leftover adrenaline when what leaves his mouth is, “Can you kiss me?”

He expects Mark to splutter, probably refuse, but Mark doesn’t even bat an eyelid. “Sure,” Mark says, like his pack members ask to make out with him all the time. Maybe this is one of the perks of being part of Mark’s pack Renjun didn’t know about.

Mark leans forward, with a deliberate slowness that’s probably for the sake of Renjun’s jacked-up nerves not registering him as a threat. He slides a hand through the hair at the base of Renjun’s neck. Their lips meet in a chaste kiss that the Renjun of two years ago would have been overjoyed with, but right now Renjun is impatient, wants more. He tongues insistently at the seam of Mark’s mouth, thumbs rubbing circles at the corners of Mark’s jaw, until Mark relents and parts his lips. He doesn’t let Renjun take too much, though, keeps the kiss controlled, on his terms. One day Renjun will manage to convince Mark to be rougher with him, but it seems it won’t be today.

Eventually, Mark pulls away, a light blush glittering over the tops of his cheeks. His mouth is shiny and his breathing is a little uneven, which is pretty satisfying to see. Renjun hesitates, then surges forward again to kiss him quickly.  

“I can stay the night as well, if you want,” Mark offers.

It’s tempting—Mark doesn’t stay at the Dream dorms anywhere near often enough, which would be all the time—but Renjun has had enough of dependence for now. He respects Mark, but he still needs time to retreat and lick his wounds, so he shakes his head.

“Okay,” Mark says, ruffling Renjun’s hair and standing up. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

In the bathroom mirror, the bite doesn’t look nearly as obscene as it feels. There’s only the neat imprint of Mark’s teeth just beneath his collarbone, a bloom of red, already beginning to bruise around the edges. Even with their accelerated healing, claim bites take weeks to fade; Renjun remembers the mark peeking out over the collars of Jeno’s shirts that stayed the entire summer he presented.

Renjun readjusts his shirt, hiding the bite from view. Under the fabric, the bite pulses like an ember, a second heartbeat, hot enough it feels like it should be glowing.

He steps out of the bathroom just as Jaemin appears in the doorway. “Jaemin-ah?”

“Injun,” Jaemin sings. He crosses the room in a few strides, crowding Renjun up against the back wall.

“Are you drunk?” Renjun says. He takes a cautious breath. Jaemin’s vanilla-honey scent is stronger and sweeter than usual, but it could just be his newly enhanced senses picking up on it. “Or—no, wait, are you in heat?”

Jaemin hums, stepping even closer and bracing a hand against the wall by Renjun’s head, effectively boxing him in. Renjun tenses. He eyes Jaemin’s easily dislocatable shoulder joint, then the juncture between Jaemin’s neck and shoulder that he could bite clean through if he wanted to, before meeting Jaemin’s gaze. This close he has to tip his head back a little, about a third of the way to baring his throat, and he’s sure the gesture isn’t lost on Jaemin. Jaemin’s eyes are dark, laser-intense as always.  

“It’s mostly out of my system,” Jaemin says, which explains the hint of Donghyuck’s freshly-laundered-sheets scent. His arms drop to Renjun’s shoulders.

“I presented,” Renjun says mildly. “As an alpha,” he adds.

“We heard scuffling,” Jaemin says. “Did you challenge Mark-hyung or something?”

Renjun groans. “Don’t remind me, it’s so embarrassing, I don’t know what I was thinking… I lasted like five minutes before he made me submit…”

Jaemin lowers his chin to rest on Renjun’s shoulder, completing what Renjun now understands to be the world’s most drawn-out and unnecessarily threatening hugging process. The rush of reflexive hostility brought on by presentation clearly doesn’t play well with Jaemin’s heat-intensified human limpet tendencies. “You should’ve seen Hyuck’s presentation, he nearly tore Mark-hyung’s throat out.”

That isn’t surprising; Donghyuck’s heats tend towards a heightened thirst for violence alongside affection. Mostly it just means he drags one of them out onto the rooftop for a prolonged sparring session, concluding makeouts optional but preferred. Jaemin tucks his face into the side of Renjun’s neck. Renjun isn’t sure where to put his hands, tentatively settles them on Jaemin’s waist. “I’m pretty sure I tried to as well,” he says. Jaemin’s lips are dry where they brush against the delicate skin of his neck, and Renjun is hyperaware of the sensation.

“You smell so good, Injun,” Jaemin mumbles, nosing at the line of Renjun’s throat.

“I smell like Mark-hyung,” Renjun corrects.

“Mark-hyung smells good too,” Jaemin agrees. “Did he scent you?”

Renjun swallows. “No,” he says. “Just the claim bite.”

Jaemin’s fingers stepladder down the base of Renjun’s throat, towards the bruise in the shape of Mark’s mouth. The faintest ghost of contact is enough to make Renjun choke down a gasp. When Jaemin fits two fingers to the bite and presses down Renjun goes momentarily boneless, the push of Jaemin’s body against his the only thing keeping him upright. His fingertips are deliciously cool against the tender, heated skin.

“Hey,” Renjun manages, the sound all strangled and breathy. Without his knowledge or permission his hands have migrated to the small of Jaemin’s back, fisting in the fabric and keeping Jaemin from pulling back, though Jaemin isn’t showing any inclination towards doing so anyway.

“Yes?” Jaemin replaces his fingers with his mouth, swiping his tongue over the bite, and Renjun’s hands slide up to clutch at his shoulderblades.

“Don’t,” Renjun warns.

He can feel Jaemin smiling against his skin. “Don’t what?”

“You know what I mean.” Renjun tries for sternness but the words fall out in a sigh. “You’re really the worst.”

Jaemin laughs and starts trailing kisses up the column of his throat. Renjun’s torn between tilting his head back to give him better access and not wanting to yield, even informally, to the second person in a day. Particularly not to Jaemin, who has nothing over him in either age or pack hierarchy except for having presented first. It’s petty, but Renjun has always been competitive to a fault.

Ignoring Renjun’s internal struggle, Jaemin sucks a mark just behind Renjun’s ear. The rill of pain makes up Renjun’s mind for him. He cups Jaemin’s jaw, bringing him up to face level so Renjun can kiss him properly, and Jaemin’s mouth falls open easily, letting Renjun’s tongue flick past his lips. Renjun’s mouth is still sensitive from kissing Mark earlier, feels like a bruise where it presses against Jaemin. None too lightly, he bites at Jaemin’s bottom lip, and Jaemin retaliates by sliding an arm under Renjun’s thighs and hoisting him up off the ground altogether so his entire body is wedged between Jaemin’s chest and the wall.

“Asshole,” Renjun hisses, once the initial jolt of his heart subsides, but he wraps his legs around Jaemin’s waist obligingly. Jaemin just grins at him and makes full use of the new angle to kiss him breathless.

Renjun doesn’t miss the way Jaemin has subtly taken back the reins of the situation but he can’t really bring himself to care. When Jaemin breaks the kiss to mouth at Renjun’s throat again, he tips his head back against the wall, looping his arms around Jaemin’s neck and winding his fingers into Jaemin’s hair.

“So is this what you’ve been working out for, huh,” Renjun says. “Kissing unsuspecting boys and giving them heart attacks when you lift them up?”

“I can even pick up Jeno,” Jaemin says proudly. “Jisung screamed when his feet left the ground,” and Renjun stifles a giggle at the image. Jaemin’s eyes go soft and he kisses the corner of Renjun’s mouth before transferring all of Renjun’s weight into his arms and stepping away from the wall, carrying him like it’s nothing. Renjun resolves to start going to the gym so he can turn the tables on Jaemin next time.

Jaemin deposits him on the bed. As soon as Renjun’s back hits the mattress he yanks Jaemin down and he lands beside him. For a while they’re just staring at each other, and then in sync they burst into laughter.

“Welcome to the pack,” Jaemin says, once they’ve caught their breaths. He drapes an arm over Renjun, tugging him closer, and Renjun reciprocates, since he’s feeling generous. “We should do this more often.”

“I’ll think about it,” Renjun says, and leans in to kiss Jaemin again.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> cranked this out in a day... if you have any feedback lmk <3


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